


Any Way You Want It

by kisahawklin



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Author's Favorite, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:26:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because they hired him an attendant doesn't mean Cougar has to like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Way You Want It

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a concept by darkmoore, a consort/attendant universe that was intriguing enough for me to flush out this story, years after I first conceived it.

Cougar paces.

He knows the attendant will be on time, but he can't help it. He paces some more.

The doorbell rings at exactly 15:45; he blows out a breath and goes to the door. When he opens it, there is an impeccably-dressed man with glasses and improbable facial hair on the other side of it. He's tall, muscular in the extreme, and carrying a garment bag folded over his left arm.

"Jensen," he says, holding out his hand to Cougar. Cougar stands back to let him in.

"Right," Jensen says, stepping in and turning to face Cougar as the door shuts. "I'm glad to see you haven't dressed yet."

Cougar looks down at the plain black suit he's wearing and back up at Jensen, whose eyes narrow as he looks Cougar up and down. He hangs the garment bag on one of the coat hooks in the anteroom and unzips it. "Tux is best, I think," he says, pulling suits of the bag like it's a Volkswagen full of clowns. "You're more wiry than I expected; the suits won't look as good because they're not tailored. We can get you a fitted vest when we get your shoes." 

Cougar stares at him. No one told him shopping would be involved.

Jensen looks around the anteroom and his eyes slide slowly over Cougar's leather hat, sitting askew on the hook next to the baseball cap he almost never wears anymore and then stares pointedly at the beat-up cowboy hat on Cougar's head. Cougar lowers his chin enough to hide his eyes beneath the brim. 

Jensen just laughs brightly and says, "You can't wear that."

Cougar's known for his own pointed looks so he raises the brim enough to give Jensen an eyeful – which apparently looks like an invitation to touch because Jensen reaches out like he's planning to take the hat off Cougar's head, like Cougar won't pin Jensen's hand to the wall with any of the six knives he has hidden on his person right now.

Cougar stares _meaner_ and that seems to get through to the attendant. He withdraws his hand and chuckles, saying, "Okay, no touching the hat." He puts his hands on his hips and sighs like a governess annoyed with her charge. "But seriously. You _can't_ wear that."

Cougar makes a face that clearly indicates a put-upon approval, takes the hat off and hangs it on the hook next to the leather cowboy hat, one Cougar thinks Jensen might approve of if Cougar was a rock star going to a red carpet event that doesn't have half the U.S. Senate in attendance, not to mention the Secretary of State.

Jensen grins blindingly and Cougar can't help the stab of confusion that makes him frown. Are all attendants like this? Cougar feels like a schoolchild, like he's receiving some sort of reward for being a good boy.

"Okay, I can work with that." Jensen's grin tempers a little, moving to wryly amused. "Time for a shower."

Cougar has honed his ability to be completely unflappable in every possible situation. It's not that things don't surprise him; it's that he thinks quick enough on his feet and is confident enough in his ability to handle anything that he can just go with it. Jensen has him completely flapped, utterly and totally at a loss for anything resembling an appropriate response. He sticks a nose in his armpit. He showered less than an hour ago.

"Oh, no," Jensen clucks, reaching out that hand again until Cougar glares it into submission. "Okay!" Jensen squeals, the amused grin still on his face. If he's faking that then he's a better showman than any other attendant or consort Cougar's ever met or seen in action. No wonder he costs so much.

"Okay, listen – you don't smell. You don't have to shower, but we have to do something about your hair." 

Cougar frowns, mostly with his eyebrows because it's more menacing that way, and doesn't touch a hand to his hair, even though he really, really wants to. Jensen's smile turns soft, like he can see Cougar's thoughts and is taking pity on him. 

"I'll wash your hair." The smile is almost gone now, just a hint at the corners of Jensen's mouth, and for some reason it annoys Cougar. He turns the frown into an outright scowl, taking the hair tie he always has wrapped around his wrist and pulling his hair into its customary ponytail.

The smile is wiped completely off Jensen's face. Suddenly he looks poised and distant, no hint of amusement or fondness or even humanity. "I'm a professional," he says, his warm tone completely at odds with the coldness in his eyes. "I am here to make you presentable, and that means washing your hair."

Like hell Cougar's letting this half-robot half-psycho grinning machine anywhere _near_ him, especially not in a shower. "No."

"I can assure you I have no lascivious intentions and I have been trained at the academy at making these experiences relaxing and pleasurable." It's a recorded speech, overly-inflected, like a performance from bad actor. Clearly Jensen has absolutely no feelings at all about the words coming out of his mouth as he continues to recite some prepared script. He looks even more like a robot now and Cougar clamps his jaw shut to keep his reaction to the creepiness of it all at bay and scowls harder.

"No."

Jensen doesn't move but he takes a deep breath. Cougar can tell that if he wasn't on duty it would have been a sigh of frustration. "You do understand, Mr. Alvarez, that you are not the one paying for my services?"

Oh, Cougar understands. He would never have engaged any attendant's services, and if he'd had any say in this selection process, he wouldn't have chosen six feet of sculpted muscle in a spiky haircut. He chances a smirk at Jensen. Cougar's not cooperative at the best of times, but he's not going to back down for a trained peacock. 

"Good," Jensen says, the coldness from his eyes gone, at least. "Then you understand I can use whatever means necessary to get you into condition for this soirée."

Cougar adds a condescending eyeroll to his deepening smirk. The attendant is a big guy but Cougar's spent a lifetime fighting guys bigger and stronger than him. He's not going to be taken down by a –

 _Ooof._

Jensen is _fast_. He'd been opening his mouth to say something and then suddenly dropped to a crouch and driven a shoulder into Cougar's stomach. Before Cougar can even get himself upright again, Jensen's got one of Cougar's hands in a handcuff, the other one dangling loosely from his wrist.

"It doesn't have to get kinky," Jensen says, and damn if that grin isn't back on his face.

Cougar lets Jensen catch his other hand, playing along just long enough to trap Jensen's wrist with the second cuff. Jensen's eyes go wide and the grin is wiped off his face for just a half-second before it comes back with a vengeance. He yanks Cougar in by their joined arms and punches him in the solar plexus, hard enough for Cougar to have trouble catching his breath. 

He's underestimated Jensen. Stupid, taking the guy at face value. He's has no doubt he can take Jensen out if he has to, but this isn't the way this whole thing was supposed to go down. 

"You're not a consort." The words are neutral, they can mean a million things, and Cougar wants them to, wants to see what they will shake loose.

Jensen shrugs one shoulder up, hiding most of an eyeroll under a slow blink. "Not anymore."

Cougar looks up and down Jensen's body. He has the looks. If he got out of it, either he wasn't good at the sex or he just didn't like it. Cougar's curious which it is, but not enough to ask. 

Jensen sighs, the deep one Cougar had expected to hear earlier. "If you tell me what's making you nervous, I can probably make you feel better about it." 

The honesty is surprising, and Cougar can't help raising an eyebrow.

"Look, Mr. Alvarez –"

"Cougar," Cougar says automatically, groaning inside when he realizes what he's done. It's just that he _hates_ being called _Mister_ Alvarez.

Jensen grins again; the soft one, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Cougar." He starts moving toward the bag of suits on the hook, pulling Cougar along by their connected wrists. 

"Look, _Cougar_. I'm just here to do a job." He starts rummaging around in the bottom of the garment bag, pulling out small cases and bags. "I'm good at my job. I can do it any way you prefer. If you like professional, I can be professional. If you like gentle, I can be gentle. If you need to be manhandled because it'll make you feel better about me doing things to you that you associate with girls and slumber parties, I can do that." He pulls out something that looks like a tiny remote control and clicks a button. The handcuffs make a _snick_ sound and Jensen grabs them and folds them up – putting them in his pocket, Cougar notices, not the garment bag. "Normally I can get a lock on what people want pretty quickly, but you're giving me mixed signals, so just tell me what you want and I'll do it that way."

Cougar's caught off guard again; he doesn't know what to say, much less what to do. Jensen looks at him evenly. "If you need my assurance that I will not attempt to initiate anything sexual during our time together, I can tell you it is specifically written into my contract." His eyes are focused just over Cougar's right shoulder, and there isn't a hint of a smile anywhere.

Cougar does the only thing he can think of. He reaches up and pulls the hair tie out of his hair, letting it fall loose over his shoulder. 

Jensen's smile makes reappearance, a genuine happy smile, and Cougar turns around to lead the way to the bathroom. He can't believe he's going to do this. He feels the light brush of Jensen's hand against his neck and then it's gone in the motion of Cougar's jacket basically melting off of him, sliding over his shoulders and down his arms like it was built to do that. He knows where this is going so he starts unbuttoning his shirt, pulling the tails out of his pants and letting Jensen take the shirt off him with the same ease as the jacket. 

Jensen crowds behind him into the tiny bathroom, entirely too close when Cougar turns around to complain. His jacket and shirt are missing too, as is his undershirt, if he was wearing one. He reaches for the hem of Cougar's undershirt and pulls it over his head in one easy motion, Cougar's arms going up and head ducking automatically to assist.

"Not as wiry as I thought, then," Jensen says. "You need a better suit, Cougar."

Cougar rolls his eyes and reaches for the button on his pants. He's never needed a suit, and a plain black one seems to suit Clay just fine most of the time. 

Jensen takes his pants off at the same time, folding both sets loosely before taking them and their shoes and socks out of the bathroom and setting them somewhere outside – probably the table in the hallway. It's probably where he left their shirts and jackets, come to think of it, since they're nowhere to be seen in the tiny bathroom.

It takes Jensen a while to come back and when he does, he's carrying two bags and a boxy looking container. Cougar's glad he didn't take his underwear off when Jensen puts down the toilet seat and makes him sit down on it. 

"We should take care of your facial hair first," Jensen says, bringing his face right up to Cougar's, the warm air from his breath hitting Cougar's chin in a confusing and not entirely comfortable way. "I'll trim the mustache and goatee, and then we need to tweeze those eyebrows a bit."

Somehow Cougar's decided to go with this whole situation, so while he doesn't like the idea of tweezed eyebrows, he doesn't actually bristle. It's already ten paces beyond weird anyway, sitting on a toilet mostly naked with another naked man touching his face in ways no one has _ever_ touched his face, ways that are so shockingly intimate that Cougar can't even dwell on them or the discomfort this whole situation is causing him. 

Instead, he thinks of why he's doing this, why they're all going to this dinner, the too-little-too-late recognition of everything they've done in the name of a country that won't even let them have their rank back. Honorable discharges, retirement packages, _the thanks of a grateful nation_ , nothing he wants or cares about. The smear is finally off their names, the ghosts of those innocent people finally put to rest, Max in his grave - these are the important things.

"Hey," Jensen says, interrupting his thoughts. "Cougar, you need to stop scowling so I can take care of your eyebrows."

Cougar flicks his eyes up to catch Jensen's, just a way to show his annoyance with this whole thing, but it's a mistake. Jensen's eyes are soft and the smile is entirely in his eyes now, sweet and soft and not what Cougar was expecting out of a professional – especially one that used to be a consort. He swallows and closes his eyes, purposely relaxing the muscles of his face, thinking of anything but those smiling blue-gray eyes. 

The plucking stings, but Jensen's hands are still on his face, still holding his jaw with strong fingers, and Cougar is completely at a loss for what to do with the warm feeling spreading in his chest. 

"There," Jensen says, his fingers sliding along Cougar's jaw before releasing him. "You look gorgeous." He's teasing a little with his smile, an obvious joke and a less obvious sincerity both written on his face. "And now up with you – into the shower."

"I thought you said hair-washing," Cougar complains. He hasn't ever been entirely on board, but the heat that's starting to settle in the cradle of his hips is dangerous and could be disastrous. 

"Well, the shower really is the easiest way to do it," Jensen says, very matter-of-fact. "Otherwise there's awkward bending, wet hair in your face, shampoo that's hard to get out…" He smiles reassuringly, and Cougar's a little surprised to find that he's been cataloging the couple dozen smiles Jensen's given him since he arrived, and this one is completely new. "I'm really good at it, you can trust me."

Cougar huffs out a breath, not really an agreement, but not a strong enough disagreement to actually stop anything, either. Jensen leans across him to turn on the water, his shoulder connecting with Cougar's ribs, a soft echo of the gut punch earlier. Cougar can feel the twitch of his skin, slightly goose-pimpled from sitting around mostly naked, and he knows he's already crossed that line, but he takes a step back and decides to go back over it willingly, to look at Jensen and actively say yes instead of being dragged along, pretending any of this would happen if it was really against his will.

He catches Jensen's arm before he can straighten all the way up, sliding his hand along it to cup Jenen's shoulders and bring him in for a kiss, a soft press of mouths that Cougar keeps his eyes at half-mast for; the shape of Jensen's lips and how they move under his too fascinating to let go, at least until they open their mouths and tongues get involved. Then Cougar lets his eyes slide shut and everything seems to slam into overdrive.

The last scraps of their clothing are discarded and Jensen hauls him bodily into the shower, picking Cougar up like he weighs nothing and depositing him right under the warm spray. He steps in right after, pulling at the shower curtain with one hand while the other starts at Cougar's ribs and slides down to his hip, fingers splayed wide like Jensen's just trying to get a handful of any part of Cougar he can reach.

As soon as his hand is free, Jensen puts it on Cougar's other hip and brings them together, masterfully managing to get the spray of the shower on Cougar's shoulder, kissing him while letting the water sluice down between their bodies, making an easy slide for their cocks, Cougar's slipping into the join between Jensen's thighs and Jensen's caught between them, sliding up Cougar's belly, a frictionless glide.

They keep up their slow kiss and grind until the water starts to cool, and without warning, Jensen puts a hand between his legs, his fingers pressing Cougar up against him and his palm pressing against his own balls – Cougar stops kissing Jensen just long enough to see. Whatever it is, it makes Jensen's head drop back, and Cougar feels himself go over the edge at the feel of Jensen's come on his stomach.

Jensen runs his knuckles along Cougar's cheek, that weird thing of touching his face that Cougar's going to have to do something about because it is strange and disconcerting even as it's comforting, and Cougar kisses them as they pass over his lips, a smear of the kiss over the back of Jensen's hand, and Jensen laughs and smiles another entirely new smile, this one open and true and happy. Cougar thinks he may be able to survive the rest of this torturous night if he can have Jensen smile at him like that at the end of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Uh... this is... not exactly where I expected it to go! But here it went, and... well. There's more to this - lots more. And hopefully, you will eventually see all of it, but this is what I could manage for this treat. <3


End file.
